


Saving the Best for Last

by Dame_Syrup (mary_pseud)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Don't copy to other sites, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 09:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19765795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mary_pseud/pseuds/Dame_Syrup
Summary: For the kinkmeme prompt: Nine/Rose - this regeneration has no genitals so he shows Rose his room of fucking machines





	Saving the Best for Last

He hunched over the TARDIS control panel, shoulders tight under his leather jacket, and tried to ignore the faint wet sounds coming from the interior of the TARDIS. Logically he knew that she was too far away for him to hear anything; logically he knew that it was only to be expected of a healthy young woman like Rose to seek sexual release.

But still --- hearing those sounds hurt.

He'd been evasive with her for months, ignoring her pressing too close to him in the corridors, taking any excuse to lounge against him after they fled some alien menace and collapsed, exhausted. Finally he'd had to explain it to her, and he had self-consciously retreated behind a thicket of words, words like sublimation and sterilisation and extinction and...and...all those other truthful, hurtful words.

Finally she had waved him to silence. Then with that wonderful warm smile she came up to him, right up to him, and without bending that smile a millimetre she shoved her hand right down his pants.

And found nothing at all. A tiny divot was his urethra emerging from his body, but as for the rest, his crotch was as smooth as a billiard ball.

"Oh," she said, flushing crimson and withdrawing her hand. He took that hand in his own, relishing her human warmth.

"Rose, all right, I should have found a way to tell you earlier."

"No, no, I should have listened to what you were tryin' to say."

Rose, always understanding. "But – here, let me offer you an alternative."

"An alternative?" She'd been bemused as she followed him (their hands still entwined) and he'd felt her grip slacken as he took her into a triply-locked room and showed him the devices that he had gathered over the centuries of his travel.

Why had he started gathering them? He remembered that at some point or another he'd needed an empathy circuit to repair one of his companions, and had bought the sex machine simply to borrow that chip. But then he'd acquired another one, and another. Sex was one of the greatest motive forces in the universe, and the creativity and skill that various species brought to creating their surrogate partners was fascinating.

He'd shown her the licking frame, and the vibrating snugger, and the great rippling soft-tentacled plant that could satisfy multiple orifices at once; he'd nattered on and on, and she had answered less and less.

Of course, he told himself. She wanted him to go away, so that she could try the machines out for herself. So he'd pressed the magnetic key into her hand, mentioned that he had to go stabilise the verniers for a few hours, and left her be.

A long, soft moan came from the interior of the TARDIS, and the Doctor bit his lip not to moan in return. Was that her with the Verr thrusters, hips raised as the animatronic phallus squirmed between her thighs, nuzzling her, wetting her and spreading her wetness, before plunging inside her to pump and twist as no human (or Time Lord, certainly not the last of the Time Lords) could ever hope to? Was it the vibrating snugger, studying her resonances and then quivering against her at the exact frequency of her internal organs, so that waves of shivering pleasure rippled from clitoris to vagina to anus and then back again? Was it the plant? Was she lying in its twining tentacles, hanging from its slick embrace, as it moved inside her mouth, expanding and contracting, learning from the touch of her lips and tongue how best to please the rest of her body?

One of his hands was still on the TARDIS controls; the other one hung over his empty crotch. When he noticed that, he took both hands and shoved them deep in his jacket pockets, scowling, hair bristling.

Rose was still moaning, and he considered: hadn't she been at this for a while? How long should it take a human female of her age to orgasm anyway?

She was probably just prolonging the experience. He wondered if she would move her bed in there, spend all of her free time in the embrace of the machines, only emerging to gulp down food and re-enter. He knew that sort of thing could happen. There was a reason that room was triply-locked.

Or what if...what if something had gone wrong? What if in his years of tinkering and borrowing, he had left one of the machines in less than perfect repair? What if she had activated that machine, and it wasn't pleasing her, it was hurting her? Or perhaps pleasing her and not knowing when to stop...there were direct neural stimulators in there. He thought they were all decommissioned, but what if they weren't?

He shouldn't check, of course. It was an invasion of her privacy, the actions of a dirty old man. But for her safety...maybe he could just....monitor the situation. From close range. Without quite realising how, he found his feet taking him deeper into the TARDIS, heading for a certain room and the lusty moans that were still issuing from it.

When he got there, the moaning was still going strong: and he could hear the wet sounds of penetration, accompanied by the whining of gears and the pulsing of piezo-shaped rubber. He stood in the TARDIS corridor, hands balled into fists in his pockets, and listened to the sounds of her happiness. He should be happy for her. He should. The noises were coming in a steady stream now. Moan, squish, moan, squish, plop, moan, squish-

Plop?

What was Rose doing in there? Maybe he should look, just in case. His hand reached for the door-

"BOOO!"

He shouted and jumped and turned, balled fists raised, to face Rose, fully clothed and laughing, her eyes squinched shut in delight.

"Oh, I scared you!" she said, still laughing.

"What?" The Doctor noticed his fists and promptly dropped them to his sides. "What?"

"Doctor, I'm sorry but you were just so damn transparent. You were just so certain that I was going to drop everything and throw myself on a machine just because it was there."

"And because I can't be there." The Doctor's lips thinned in anger. Anger against himself.

"No, no," she said softly, coming closer and putting her hand on his sleeve. "You are here, right now. You're my friend. My best friend. An' I'm not going to stop being your friend because of what's in your pants."

The Doctor's thrumming hearts were finally starting to slow down.

"All right?" she prodded.

"All right. But – what is in there then?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the room of pleasure machines.

Rose giggled again, teeth bright. "Go on, have a look for yourself."

He did, and stood in the doorway amazed. The machines had been trundled into a loose circle, and they were all concentrating their energies on something red, and pink, and with a hard green rind.

"A watermelon. A watermelon?" he queried Rose.

"Well, I asked why you had a machine that made watermelons, and you said you'd explain later. So when you left in here, I just recorded a loop of some moans"- his eyes jerked to the recording device hanging from the Verr thruster's frame, and then back to her face – "and went and got a watermelon."

She grinned at the much-punctured fruit, and the pulp that was steadily dripping from it. "It seems to have died happy."

"All right. So, does this mean you won't be using this room then?" This all came out too fast.

"I might. But if I do," she stepped close to him, staring up into his eyes, "I promise, I will not be thinking about watermelon." She leaned closer and kissed his cheek, and he glowed with sudden delight. "And who knows? Maybe someday I'll come here with you, and you can watch."

And that was something to look forward to. He didn't tell her that, though. Instead he kissed her cheek in turn, and pressed her hand, and they marched on to their next adventure, arm in arm.


End file.
